It's Alive!
by SPEEEEEEEAK
Summary: One-shot. Written for URF August challenge. Rated cause it's RENT.


**A/N: This is being written as the August writing challenge for the URF. The voice of Scarfy in this is based off of my friend I Am Dreadfully Boring, or Dread. She's loads nicer though. All thoughts are in italics. Hope you like it! **

Mark sat in his loft, cradling Scarfy in his arms. The blue and gray striped goodness was his only friend now. He glanced at the silent phone. It never rang anymore, not since his mother had stopped calling. All his friends had gone. Moved, died, lost interest, what did it really matter? He was alone, period. Except for Scarfy – he would always have Scarfy. It just got so lonely sometimes that Mark couldn't stand it, and that's when he would have one-sided conversations with Scarfy. Oh how he wished inanimate objects could talk…

Mark looked at the clock hanging on the wall. "Time for your weekly bath!" he exclaimed to Scarfy. Mark walked into the bathroom and laid Scarfy gently in the tub. Looking in the cabinet under the bathroom sink for soap, and came up with a vividly coloured rainbow box. He shook it and it appeared to be empty.

But he couldn't be out of soap! Because if he was out of soap then Scarfy would become filthy! Mark was frantic with worry living by himself for so long with no living company had made him slightly eccentric, so he stuck his head back in the cabinet to try and find more soap. Pushing aside boxes that held cure for various things, he come across an antique looking tin container.

Opening it revealed soap flakes smelling faintly of lavender. Mark figured one of his previous roommates must have left it in the cabinet. He ran hot water into the tub and poured a decent amount of the soap into soak with Scarfy. Then he left Scarfy in peace to have a pleasant bubble bath.

A few hours later, Mark awoke from his nap on the sofa. _Time to get Scarfy out of his bath!_ Opening the bathroom door, Mark was enfolded in acrid green smoke. _What the…?_ His thought trailed off as he approached the tub to find the water the same green colour as the air. And – Mark started as this realization hit his brain – SCARFY WAS GONE!

Mark looked around frantically. _What had happened? Had someone come and stole Scarfy?_ But a quick surveillance of the loft proved that all the doors and windows were locked. No opportunity for anyone to steal Scarfy. Mark wondered into his room and saw something curled up under his blanket. _A person? The person who had tried to steal Scarfy?_ Mark crept up and in one swift movement pulled off the blanket to reveal…Scarfy?! _How the hell did Scarfy get here?_ Mark wondered. _Was I sleepwalking?_ And that's when Scarfy moved…

Mark sat on the couch trying to soak it all in. "Still don't believe me?" asked his companion in an incredulous British accent. Mark nodded dumbfounded. "How can you be alive? How did it happen? How…what…uhh?" Scarfy sighed. "For the 5th and final time here's what happened: when you put me in the bathtub with that weird soap, some sort of chemical reaction made all the care you've given me made me come alive. And then I cane out of the bathroom, saw you sleeping, thought that looked like a good idea, went into your room, and fell asleep. Then you came in, found me, and started flipping out. And then we came out here, and now I'm explaining to you what happened for the fifth time. Mark nodded. "Ok…I'm getting more and more used to this idea…" he said slowly. "Good," said Scarfy and stood up. The blue and gray scarf still resembled the original item of clothing, but it now had little googlie-eyes, a big, pink mouth, and was hovering in mid air. It looked like a character out of a cartoon show. "So…what are we going to do today?" Scarfy asked with a toothy grin.

That night Mark sat writing in his journal while Scarfy watched TV.

_We had such a fun time today. Scarfy is hilarious. At lunch at the Life Café, Scarfy decided to try and snort salt up his nose. __:)_

"She," corrected Scarfy, reading over Mark's shoulder. "Huh?" Mark said without looking up. "I'm a _she_ not a he." At this, Mark looked up. "SHE?!" he exclaimed. "Duh," Scarfy said, pointing at where her head would be with a bit of fringe. A little polka dot bow appeared above her eyes. "Oh," said Mark, feeling embarrassed. "Just fix it," Scarfy said exasperatedly. Mark nodded and bent over the notebook in his lap. "There," he said after a few minutes. "Better?"

_We had such a fun time today. Scarfy is hilarious. At lunch at the Life Café, Scarfy decided to try and snort salt up__ **her** nose. __:)_

"Much. I'm exhausted. I'm going go to sleep now." Scarfy said. And with that she swept into Mark's room, grabbed his walkman, plugged herself in, and immediately fell asleep. "I'm fine sleeping on the couch," Mark mumbled after his new roommate as he fell asleep, perfectly happy for the first time in a long while.

Two weeks later, the happy feeling had worn off, and this was getting to be old. Scarfy had come to further ruin Mark's life instead of keep him company. She was constantly plugged into his walkman, listening to music. And it appeared that Scarfy zoned out a lot…eather that or she was hard of hearing. Or both. And when she didn't get her way, she'd give you a kick. And her kicks hurt a surprising amount, considering she was a piece of material. Mark was getting fed up with this annoying presence in his life.

Take this morning for instance! Mark had woken up when Scarfy dumped a coffee cup filled with iced water on his head. Once he had blinked the water out of his eyes, she had demanded that he make her breakfast. And not just a simple omelet, but a full fledged gourmet breakfast!

Then Scarfy had made Mark comb and braid her fringe, give her a back rub, and clean the loft. She was going to make him clean the bird poop off the balcony, when he snapped.

"I can't take it any more!" he exploded. Scarfy looked up from the couch in surprise.

"Huh?" she asked.

Mark took a deep breath and sighed. "You have been getting on my last nerve Scarfy. I love you but I don't think I can handle it when you try to control my life!"

Scarfy cast her eyes down. "Well then, I guess we're going to have to change your attitude." She looked up and her eyes had turned a smoldering crimson.

Mark backed away slowly towards the kitchen counter, afraid of the glowing eyes that were not cartoon-like at all. Scarfy advanced towards him. "You will pay," she hissed.

"You know," Mark said, "I'd really rather not…" He trailed off as he backed into the sharp edge of the kitchen counter.

Scarfy kept floating towards the helpless Mark. Her fringe floated in front of her, like hands reaching out to strangle a victim. Mark felt behind him on the counter for something, _anything_, that would help him fend off Scarfy.

His hand closed around a pack of matches. He gripped them as if his life depended on it. Which, come to think of it, it probably did.

The inches dissappeared as Scarfy floated closer and closer. Mark fumbled to light a match. It struck with a hissing sound and Mark could feel the heat of the flame nearing his bare hand. Hoping it would work, he threw the match at Scarfy.

It hit Scarfy, and she burst into flames before his eyes. She screamed as the cloth burned and turned to ashes. Mark was stunned at what he had done. How could he have killed the only thing that had even _bothered_ to keep him company for the past 7 years?

_Great,_ he thought, _just great. _

What would he do without Scarfy? What had he done?!

_Wonderful,_ he thought sarcastically. _God Mark, ever heard of anger management?!_

**A/N: Please don't hate me for that. What'd you think? Hit the review button and tell me!**


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